


Chocolate

by FantasticNumberNine



Series: John Watson and the Prisoner of Azkaban [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, And so do the Durselys, Chocolate cures everything, Crossover, Dementors are also jerks, Gen, Hogwarts Express, Moriarty's a jerk, Potterlock, Profs on the train, Sneakoscopes, and John can't go to hogsmeade, of course he is, surprise, the escaped mass murderer is after john, which sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2512226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasticNumberNine/pseuds/FantasticNumberNine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds out that the mass murderer, Sirius Black, has escaped Azkaban to find him--always a good way to start off a new year at Hogwarts. And as if that weren't enough, the Ministry's posted dementors everywhere, including aboard the Hogwarts Express.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer*

"Swear to me that whatever your might hear--"

"Arthur, quickly!"

John leapt through the compartment door, held open by Greg, as the train began to move.

"I need to talk to you in private," John said to Greg and Myrcoft as the train picked up speed.

"Of course," Mycroft turned to his brother. "Go away, Sherlock."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes before sticking his nose up snootily and sauntering away, robes billowing about his scrawny self dramatically.

There were no empty compartments, but John, Greg, and Mycroft were able to find one at the end of the train with only one, sleeping, occupant. They stared in the doorway for a moment, none of them had seen an adult on the train before--except the witch who pushed the food cart.

"Who's he then?" Greg asked quietly as he sat down and John slid the door shut behind them.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," Mycroft whispered.

"Come off it, Myc, you can't possibly know that!"

Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut, then pointed at the battered suitcase on the rack over the man's head, "It's on his case."

Greg frowned at the man, "Wonder what he teaches."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, obviously."

"It's only, he looks like one good hex would finish him off," Greg said doubtfully. "Anyway, what were you going to tell us, John?"

John explained the argument he'd overheard from Greg's parents and the warning from Mr. Lestrade. As he finished he took in Greg's thunderstruck expression and Mycroft's worrying one, but lacking surprise.

"I would warn you to not go looking for trouble, John, but--"

"But trouble is going to find me anyways?" John smiled weakly.

"How thick would John have to be to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?"

John snorted and rubbed a hand over his face, "How did he escape Azkaban?"

"No one knows, it's never been done before--and he was in a top-security cell!"

"I'm certain the Ministry will catch him soon enough," Mycroft turned his attention to a Chocolate Frog he'd procured from his jacket pocket. "They even have the Muggles looking--"

"What's that noise?" Greg interrupted.

A faint, tinny whistling noise was coming from somewhere, from John's trunk. Greg pulled John's Pocket Sneakoscope out from his trunk and held it out, where it spun quickly and glowed brightly.

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" Mycroft asked interestedly, swooping in close to Greg for a closer look.

"Yeah, er..." Greg was turning an interesting shade of red at Mycroft's unexpected proximity. He cleared his throat and Mycroft leapt back across the compartment into his own seat, his cheeks suspiciously pink.

John raised his eyebrows and flicked his eyes between his friends. This was going to be interesting. As Greg and Mycroft busied themselves with staring anywhere but at each other, John snatched the Sneakoscope back and stuffed it into a particularity hideous pair of socks and thrust it back into his trunk and shut the lid before the sound woke Professor Lupin.

"What set it off?" John asked into the awkward silence.

Greg blinked, then slouched back into his seat with a shrug. "No idea, it's a cheap model, we could get it checked in Hogsmeade. Dervish and Bangs sell that sort of thing, according to Fred and George."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" Mycroft leaned cautiously forward, "I'd read it was the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain--"

"Yeah, probably," Greg waved him off. "But who cares? I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" 

"It's a sweetshop! And they've got _everything_..." A dreamy look came over Greg's face. "Pepper Imps, and great fat Chocoballs, and excellent sugar quills you can suck on in class and look like you're just taking what to write next--"

"But Hogsmeade is a very interesting site beyond _sweets_ , the inn was supposedly the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain--"

"--And massive sherbert balls that make you levitate a bit off the ground while you're sucking them," Greg was clearly not listening to a word Mycroft was saying.

Mycroft sighed, and looked at John, "You'll enjoy getting out of school to do some authorized exploring, I imagine?"

"I expect I would," John turned to glare out the window. "I'll just have to live vicariously through you two."

"--Exploding bonbons... Wait, what d'you mean?" Greg snapped out of his sugary reverie.

"Can't go. The Dursley's never signed my form."

Greg looked horrified.

" _You're not allowed to come_?"

"Like they'd let me go now anyways, with a mad murderer out after me."

"But if _we're_ with you--"

"Don't be ridiculous, Gregory, Black is a _mass murderer_ ," Mycroft scoffed. "Do you honestly think he going to worry about attacking John just because there are _three_ thirteen-year-old boys with wands instead of one?"

"You'll probably be fourteen when the first weekend comes around, and you're bloody scary when you want to--Oi! Don't let that thing out!"

Mycroft had released the clasps of Crookshanks's basket, and the over large cat leapt lightly onto Greg's lap to smirk at the trembling lump in his pocket. 

"Get off me, you mangy beast!"

"Gregory!" 

"Shut up!" John hissed, gesturing pointedly at the stirring Professor Lupin.

Greg and Mycroft froze, but the Professor did not wake. A tense silence settled on the trio as the train moved steadily north, until the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door. Professor Lupin slept through the entire interaction, and was rather poor company for the journey, but John was grateful for his presence near midafternoon.

Jim Moriarty appeared at their door, flanked by his cronies Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh my, look who it is," Moriarty said in his usual gleeful drawl. "I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Lestrade. Did your mother die of shock?"

Greg jumped to his feet, knocking Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort. 

Moriarty's eyes widened, "Who's that?"

"New teacher," John stood up, grabbing Greg's arm just in case. "What were you saying, Moriarty?"

Moriarty stared at the Professor for a moment before beaming at John and waving Crabbe and Goyle away. With one last smirk at Greg, and an extravagant wink at John, Moriarty sauntered off.

Greg grumbled and massaged his knuckles as he sat back down with John. 

It had just gotten dark, the lanterns had flickered on, when the train began to slow; Mycroft frowned at his watch.

"We can't be there yet."

"Then why are we stopping?"

John stood and poked his head out into the corridor, and from the other curious heads sticking out of the compartments down their carriage, no one else seemed to know what was going on either. 

The train came to a sudden stop, sending John falling back into their compartment onto Mycroft as the lights went out.

"Ouch, John!" 

"Sorry!"

John felt his way back into an empty seat.

"Have we broken down?"

"I don't think so..."

"There's something moving out there," John could just make out Greg with his face pressed up against the window. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door slid open and someone fell over John's legs.

"Sorry! Sorry! Oh, sorry! D'you know what's going--sorry! What's going on?"

"Hello, Molly," John grabbed Molly's cloak and pulled her down into the seat beside him.

"John! What's happening?"

"No idea--"

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," said Mycroft's voice. 

John felt him pass, and then the door slid open again, there was a thud and a muffled squeak.

"Who's there?"

"Mycroft?"

"Sherlock!"

"What're you doing here?"

"I was looking for Mycroft--"

"You found him--"

"Sit down, Sherlock--"

"Not here!" John grimaced. 

"Ouch!" 

"No, not--"

Crookshanks hissed and Sherlock yelped.

"Where am I supposed to sit!"

"Sherlock--"

"Quiet!" Said a hoarse voice--Professor Lupin had woken up at last.

A soft, crackling noise, later, and a small light filled the compartment, illuminating Professor Lupin's tired, gray, face and his alert but wary eyes.

"Stay where you are."

He stood slowly and reached for the door, but it slid open before he could touch it.

Standing in the doorway and illuminated by the small flames in Lupin's hand was a towering, cloaked figure, it's face hidden beneath it hood. John's eyes darted downward and felt his stomach flip unpleasantly. A glistening hand protruded from the cloak, slimy and scabbed like something that had died and decayed in water.

The thing drew in a long rattling breath, and the compartment was suddenly ice cold. 

John couldn't breathe, the cold had seeped beneath his skin and into his very heart and everything went dark. He felt himself being dragged down, there was a roaring in his ears and then he heard, from far, far away, screaming. Someone was screaming, terrified and terrible pleading screams and he couldn't help them. He tried to reach for them, to help them, but he couldn't move his arms--a thick white fog swirled around him... Swirled through him...

"John! John! Are you alright?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"What?"

John opened his eyes--the lights were back on and the floor was shaking, the train was moving again. He was lying on his back on the floor between the seats, Greg and Mycroft were kneeling beside him, and John could see Molly and Professor Lupin all staring at him.

John pushed himself up and onto a seat, shoving Greg's hand away as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

"Are you okay?" Greg asked nervously.

"Yes. Fine." John gestured at the door. "What happened? What was that thing--and who was screaming?"

"John... No one screamed," Greg said slowly.

John opened his eyes and looked around, Sherlock and Molly both looked very pale (paler than usual, he supposed, in Sherlock's case). 

"I heard screaming--"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to John, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

John took the chocolate absently as he stared at the Professor.

"What was that thing?"

"A dementor," said Lupin as he handed pieces of chocolate to the others. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him and he crumpled up the the empty wrapper and calmly put it in his pocket.

"Eat. It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me."

He left without another word into the corridor.

"John?" Mycroft was _looking_ at him.

John clenched the hand not holding the chocolate. 

"I don't understand--what happened?"

"The dementor was standing there, in the doorway, and it seemed to be looking around. And then, you..." Mycroft glanced at the floor meaningfully. 

"I thought you were having a fit," Greg said, still looking panicked. "You sort of seized up and fell out of your seat and started twitching."

"At which point Professor Lupin stepped over you and pulled his wand out at the dementor and said 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' When it didn't leave, Lupin cast a Patronus charm and it left."

"It was horrible," Molly said, her voice higher than normal. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," Greg had his arms wrapped around himself, "Like I'd never be cheerful again."

Sherlock was huddled into Mycroft's side, looking nearly as bad as John felt, as Mycroft carded through his dark hair.

"But none of you fell..." John trailed off awkwardly.

"No," Greg glanced anxiously at John before looking at Sherlock. "Sherlock was shaking like mad, though."

John didn't understand. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?

"I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know."

Professor Lupin had returned, a small smile on his face.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes--are you alright, John?"

"Fine," John muttered, biting into his piece of chocolate. To his immense surprise, warmth spread through him, to the very tips of his toes and fingers.

Soon he'd be at Hogwarts again. Soon, he'd be home.

**Author's Note:**

> John's patronus is literally keeping me up at night. It's totally alright that it's still a stag. Because it represents his dad, not him. And changing it means changing Prongs and gods know I've exhausted that subject. So you'll have to deal with John's patronus being a deer. Or speak up.


End file.
